Breathe Again
by SoftieGeric
Summary: Eric Birling x Gerald Croft (written by Gianna)
1. Chapter 1

Gerald POV:

"I love you," I whispered into his Eric's ear, my lips hovering at his neck. When there was no immediate response, I backed away slightly, with a playful smile. I studied the expression on his face, and was very surprised to see it was nearly unchanged, but my eyes detected the corner of his lips lift up into an almost smile, and then drop down again. Huh.

"Love you too, G," he said, halfheartedly (and since when was an "I love you" from Eric halfhearted?), his eyes still locked on our old television set blaring an old episode of Britain's Got Talent that we had missed. The thing is, Eric is my idol, but sometimes I don't understand him in the least. Especially recently...

It was our first time seeing each other since work got out. My work got out a week ago, but for some reason, Eric's dad didn't let him get off until today. Unfortunately, I didn't get to talk to Eric at all for that entire week, which killed me inside. This was partly because of how hard his dad had him working, and partly because I spent the week looking after my ill granndmother. It was a fun time, but of course, I found myself missing Eric. Anyways, to celebrate both the freedom of us both being off work for over two weeks and our reunion, I invited Eric over to just relax and hang out, which is what the both of us needed. Spending time with each other was what kept our relationship afloat.

Tonight, however, I noticed that Eric seemed distracted, distant, and quiet- and surprisingly not at all squiffy. These traits were not at all like my boyfriend's (get used to that word because I love it to pieces and will mostly likely overuse it) usual personality. Something was up, and I was determined to find out what it was .

"What's up, babe? You've been kinda quiet," I said, reaching to grab his hand while turning down the volume on the TV. Eric sat up a little, and glanced up at me briefly, enough to catch my concerned look. He squeezed my hand, trailing his thumb along my knuckle, softly, his lips curling up into a smile.

"Oh really? I'm sorry, long week,you know? Dad's pushing me to work harder," Eric dismissed. staring intently at my hands. Not knowing what else to do, I nodded.

"You know you can tell me anything, Eric, right?" I said after a beat. "I mean, you are my boyfriend," I said, smiling lightly at the use of my new favourite word.

"I'm fine, I promise," He said, taking his gaze from my hands, to my face. "But why the sudden interest?"

"Because I care about you, dumbass. I haven't seen you in a week, and you're being distant with me, I mean you've been here what? 2 hours, and you haven't even kissed me yet," I didn't mean to say it, it just kinda...slipped out.

"Never doubt my love for you," he whispered, leaning in. I managed to catch a glimpse of his gorgeous hazel eyes before his lips were gently pressed against mine. It was quick and sweet. Just enough to assure me that this was right. We were right, and we were.

He turned the volume up again and we continued to watch the forgotten programme that had been playing quietly in the background, this time with me cuddled up against my boyfriend, his hands idly playing with my hair. Before the hour was over, I was fast asleep on Eric's shoulder, right where I belonged. 


	2. Chapter 2

Eric POV:

I found myself awake before Gerald the next morning. It seemed that I was the only one awake in the whole house-hold- no sign of either Mum or Him being awake, and Gerald told me Sheila was staying over at Edna's house. My eyes scanned the room for Gerald, not remembering much of last night's events due to my early morning brain fogginess. But it didn't take long for me to find him. A staggered breath to the left of me caused me to turn my head, and there he was, his flawless porcelain face, pressed up against my left shoulder, fast asleep. He looked so peaceful and serene, I didn't dare wake him.

My thoughts were resonating around the previous night, when Gerald suspected that something was the matter the me. The truth was that something was up. I hated lying to Gerald,to everyone really. Lying tends to make me all tense and angsty, whhich is definitely not my best trait. I wanted to tell him what happened during the week that he was gone, but everything inside of me told me not to. I was too afraid of hurting him. I knew what his reaction would be if he found out, as well as the end result to the chain reaction that would shortly follow me revealing the truth. And I just couldn't have that happening.

I felt Gerald stir while I was deep in thought. The bright Summer sun peeking in from the blinds had finally caused him to realise it was already nearing ten o'clock. Of course, he'd already had an entire week to practise sleeping in. My brain, on the other hand, was still running on my "father's" insane work hours, so it would appear he had an excuse.

"Good morning," he mumbled, clearly barely awake, but remembering my presence. I grinned at him, dopily. With Gerald Croft, it was bound to be a good morning.

"Morning, G, did you sleep well?" I asked, stroking his sleep tousled hair with affection, marveling at its softness and thickness, as I did often.

"I slept wonderfully, actually. Had a crazy dream though, dreamt that I was marrying Sheila, and this inspector came and yelled at us about some girl we both apparently had sex with," Gerald trailed off, his voice still plagued with early morning grogginess, which admittedly, I found adorable. I laughed with him about his bizarre and totallly unrealistic dream.

"You and Sheila?" I questioned, with a chuckle in my voice.

"Yeah my unconscious works in weird ways, apparently..." he smiled at me, and sat up straight, fixing his hair with his fingers frantically. Moments like these make it clear to me why I love him.

Just then, my mum appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Normally, the thought of her completely terrifies me, because whenever I do see her I'm either squiffy, or doing something wrong. Like that time I got Gerald squiffier than I'd ever seen him, and he spent the night in my bed without her permission. Good times. Anyways, this time she was well aware Gerald had spent the night here. It was definitely weird, and not something that would likely happen again, so of course Gerald jumped on the opportunity to come over.

"Mornin' boys," she said, shifting her weight uncomfortably. Everything about her concerned me. Her morals, the things she stood for, how she not only managed to raise 2 children without even knowing it but also didn't notice her husband running off to have sex with a prostute. I don't even know what's more shocking, the fact that he's cheating, or the fact he found someone who actually wants to have sex with him... she must really be desperate for money.

"Morning, Mrs. Birling," Eric said with his adorable wide smile.

"For the last time, call me Sybil," she insisted. I've always hated the name Sybil, maybe because it belongs to her. "I'm gonna make some breakfast,  
you boys hungry?" we both nodded enthusiastically.

Breakfast was boring, to say the least.

"Hey, don't fall asleep again," Gerald warned me, as he lay down next to me on the bed.

"Why not?"

"Because I have something planned, get dressed," 


	3. Chapter 3

Gerald POV:

I left Eric to get changed, I knew that Sybil had already left for work, so decided to make breakfast. I know we'd already had it, and I'm not saying Sybil can't cook, but... Sybil can't cook. I shot Eric a text, asking what he wanted for breakfast, I swore to God if he said cereal I was going to slap him. After around 2 minutes, I felt my phone buzz, the text simply said "I don't know...waffles?" THAT'S IT? No 'I love you, thanks for making me breakfast, what would I ever do without you'? Nothing? Just waffles?

I decided to show him exactly how I felt by texting him back.

"WAFFLES? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

This argument lasted far longer than it theoretically should have. We settled on crepes, it was a simple solution, that satisfied both of us at least to an extent. It was something fancy enough that I could enjoy cooking, and also enjoy watching Eric try to pronounce. Honestly, I knew Eric didn't care what it was. Whatever it was, crepes, stromboli, hell- even microwavable sausages would be burnt before he was done with them.

The creation of the crepes was an interesting event. Well I mean, I thought it was. I was explaining to Eric the correct way to mix the batter so that clumps didn't form and how to pour just the right amount onto the pan so the crepes didn't turn out too thick or too thin. He nodded every once in a while and uttered of mmhmm's and okay's, but really I could tell his mind was somewhere else, lost in a world composed solely of anything other than what I was saying. He mindlessly watched me strugle to open the jar of flour, duck down to become eye-level with the measuring cup filled with water, or accidently spill salt all over the counter.

"Eric!" I saw him snap out of his daze, and look up at me with those gorgeous golden eyes, ending his daydream abruptly. "For goodness sakes, I called your name four times!"

"Oh, really? Sorry, I'm still kinda tired," he mumbled for an excuse.

"Well, I just wanted to know if you wanted to try flipping these next ones...they're just about ready," I saw the hesitation, but I knew the dominant side of him wanted to impress me, he smiled warmly and took the spatula.

I could see he had his eyes set on the one towards the right of the pan. To him, it looked easy enough, but I knew this could only end badly. He lifted it up really quickly and we found it flying across the kitchen, before we had a chance to control it, and it landed perfectly on the center of the fridge door.

For a second, I was in shock. He looked terrified of my reaction, I knew he thought I was mad at him for making a mess, but surprisingly, this wasn't the case. I looked at him, then at the crepe, then back at the crepe, before out laughing. He eased out a little.

"That. Was. Awesome." I chuckled. "Do it again!"

"The other crepes are burning, Gerald! And I don't want to clean up more crepe goop,"

"Fine," I agreed, kissing him on the cheek and grabbing the spatula from his hand, I gently tapped him on the nose with it. He smiled at me goofily. "I love you, Kitchen Ninja,"


End file.
